Cognac or Me
by BloodyBrilliantRuthie
Summary: Hermione and Harry find comfort in each other immediately following the end of the war. Each is spoken for by a Weasley, will they find resolution to their situation?


**Cognac or Me**

**by**

**BloodyBrilliantRuthie**

**Summary: Hermione and Harry find comfort in each other immediately following the end of the war. Each is spoken for by a Weasley. Will they find resolution to their situation? **

Confusion, hysteria, grief, and joy all gripped her tightly around her middle and attempted to tear her apart. She was as fragile as a rag doll in the rain, her tears serving to melt away at the soft fabric and loosen the rows of delicate stitching. Was she the rag doll or was she the tears? She felt as if, at this very defining moment in history, she was indeed both.

Hermione was unraveling, that much was clear. Harry and Ron had escaped the Great Hall with her for some solace and much needed rest after Harry defeated Voldemort. The crowd, desiring company in their celebration and grief, had gathered in the Great Hall to love, honor, remember, and rejoice. It was morning, and Hermione just couldn't do it anymore. The opposing emotions tore at the very fabric of her soul, and for the first time in months, she felt as if she would collapse from the onslaught of emotions warring within her.

And now, as she sat in Gryffindor Tower, she trembled, fighting back her sobs so as to not wake Harry, Ron, and the Weasley clan who apparently found it easier to stay together at Hogwarts than to return home and face the reality of having lost a son.

Despite his obvious exhaustion, Harry woke up and noticed her tears and moved closer to embrace her and offer his comfort. He held her tight, seemingly willing his strength to mend her and fortify her again. His arms, now strong from maturity and battle, held her gently as if he knew he held a fragile rag doll. Those strong arms that had saved the world from evil now handled her with a gentleness of care. And while she welcomed his warmth and friendship, somehow it was not enough.

Harry pulled away when her trembling did not abate, and with a furrowed brow he whispered, "What's wrong?"

Her throat tightened. She knew the words she needed to say, but her body was not cooperating. She was certain that no sound would escape the tiny hole her throat had become. He was patient with her and waited until she managed a low, yet tight whisper, as she fought to speak.

"I must get out of here now," she warned, her eyes urgent and beseeching.

He understood. He didn't fight her or try to convince her to stay. Harry always knew what to do and how to make her feel better. She trusted him implicitly.

Without hesitation, he stood up and held out his hand to her. She held onto it like one would a lifeline. As he pulled her to her feet, she concentrated on willing her sobs from escaping and waking the sleeping family, who were spread about the Common Room.

Harry looked to Ron, sleeping deeply next to his family and then back to Hermione.

No.

She did not want to wake him. He lost his brother and needed his family as much as she guessed that they needed him. Her movements were slight, but Harry saw her back and forth motion, telling him not to wake Ron. Wherever he was taking her, they would go alone.

Their journey out of the broken castle was arduous and slow. Each step a step closer to freedom… to comfort. But the walk was long, and she clung to Harry who didn't complain as he guided her away from the wreckage of war.

No words were spoken until they reached their destination outside the grounds, and Harry held her gaze and said firmly, "Hold me and don't let go."

She would not.

A pull and tug later they landed on soft ground outside Grimmauld Place… Harry's home and the only place she felt she could call home as well. As soon as they crossed the threshold, she released her sorrow and wailed. Her emotions wouldn't be contained a moment longer. They demanded freedom and poured out of her like water from a sieve.

Fred, Remus, Dobby, Tonks… so many deaths. She pounded the worn rug beneath her, her posture a plea to make the world right again. Anger filled her at life's inquietude.

She was screaming. Her words incoherent even to herself, yet, in the middle of her immense grief, she felt hope.

Strong arms lifted her away.

Normally a strong and independent witch, she found herself vulnerable and tired. Although not accustomed to this strange role, there was no shame. When one wins a war over such great evil, no shame appears grand enough to overcome such honor.

Harry was with her. He was her rock… her hope.

How many times had he doubted himself? It was her strength she gave him as often as he needed. For as many times as she supported him, it was his humanness, his fears and strengths, which gave her faith that in the end, his immense goodness would prevail over the darkness that had consumed their world. Although she offered up her strength to him, it was his vulnerability that took her heart.

Unraveling, her screaming intensified. Despite being cradled in his arms, she could not control the deep desperation that had cemented in her gut. The moment he lifted her in his arms, she knew she was safe, but reason seemed to hold no place for her now.

The trembling in her body intensified tenfold, yet even in her mad state, she knew that she was not the source of the new tremors. They appeared external to her. Jostled, she was about to protest when a fierce and brutal kiss invaded her senses, forcing her lips against her teeth, demanding and taking. What… she did not know.

The kiss was too strong, hard, and all wrong; devoid of passion and full of desperation. Although completely nonplused, Hermione was released from her maelstrom of emotions by the absurdity of what was transpiring and angrily pushed Harry away from her.

Calm and unaffected by her actions, he easily came to his feet and said in a smooth and casual voice, "Welcome back to me, Hermione."

Her hand immediately touched her lips and looked into his eyes, expecting to find him angry with her or far worse, indifferent.

Instead, he was… Harry. Caring, sympathetic and yet, he had been desperate to bring her back from the brink of her confounding emotions. The kiss was a desperate act from a desperate friend.

As she sat there baffled, staring at Harry standing before her, she only managed one simple word, "Why?"

The question hung in the air like acrid smoke. Harry was struggling with his answer. Confused as to why her simple question would cause him such hesitation, she asked him again, "Why did you kiss me, Harry?"

"I'm sorry if it was so disgusting for you," he snapped, "but I was desperate for you to return to me. I figured if I did something completely gross it would bring you back," he explained as he shuffled his feet uncharacteristically.

Mortified, she whispered, "Kissing me is disgusting and gross?"

"Is that what you got out of that?" he bellowed. "I said that I had to do something unusual, something that _you_ would find disgusting and gross, not the other way around.

"I'm going to get us something; I'll be right back." In a flash, Harry kissed her on the forehead and walked away swiftly. As he departed, she heard him whisper, "Definitely, not the other way around."

Her lips hurt from the powerful kiss that Harry gave her. It shouldn't have happened. It was all wrong, but it was also all Hermione could think about. Licking her lips, she wanted desperately to taste him again. As she touched her lips, she imagined his lips still upon them, although passionate instead of desperate. It was difficult to admit, but the kiss that was all wrong opened up her mind… her body to all that she had dreamed.

A fantasy, nothing more. Or was it?

"Hermione," he whispered, bringing her out of her reverie as he placed a hot mug into her hands, "drink this, and I promise you will feel better."

"Hot cocoa, Harry?" she asked looking into his warm eyes. "How's this going to make me feel better?"

"Quite easily, actually," he asserted, obviously fighting a smile. "I've placed Felix Felicis in there. Soon you'll be feeling like a million Galleons."

"Harry!" she gasped, "I don't want…"

"Calm down, Hermione!" He laughed. "There's nothing in there except cocoa, cream, and a wee bit of cognac."

"Cognac?"

"It'll help warm the gut and calm you down the old fashioned way," he insisted, and then his face turned somber as he held her gaze. "I don't have any potions."

"I don't need potions, Harry," she asserted, wanting to assure him that she would be okay. "Thank you for this, but I've never had anything stronger than Butterbeer."

"You mean to tell me that I have not liquored you up yet and conveniently taken advantage of you?" he teased.

Heat formed in her body and quickly spread to her face. The kiss from earlier came quickly to mind.

"Don't worry. Drink up. Your virtue isn't in danger just yet," he insisted as he continued teasing her.

"The library?" she asked simply.

"Don't you like it?" he pouted, feigning hurt feelings. "I thought the smell of books would help you relax."

"Oh, no, Harry, it's brilliant," she reacted quickly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "This is actually a perfect place to relax if we just disregard the dark magic in those books and the doxies in the curtains."

"I hear doxies are an aphrodisiac," he said while playfully wriggling his eyebrows.

"Have you already eaten one?" she chortled, enjoying their light banter. "I hear they taste like chicken."

"They are the Chicken of the Wizarding World."

"Don't you mean Chicken of the Sea?" she asked jovially.

"Now, I remember! All I needed was the Hellman's to bring out the best of the doxie. It was rather dry."

"Great, now I'm in the mood for some tuna salad. I wonder if we have any," he supposed wistfully.

"Sounds yummy; let's go see!" Hermione was about to jump off of the couch when Harry pressed his hand on her shoulder, keeping her down.

"I gave Dobby the night off."

"We don't need Dobby to make tuna, Harry," she asserted, perplexed by his statement.

"Actually, we don't have much of anything in the kitchen, and I did tell Dobby to stay in his room tonight."

Confused, she pressed, "Why?"

"I wanted us to be alone so that we could… talk in private."

Immediately, Hermione recalled her grief, the overpowering emotions that warred within her, and her face fell, a frown replacing her smile.

Harry removed her half filled mug from her loose grasp and sat with her on the couch. Placing his arm around her shoulders, he snuggled closer, and with his free hand, he turned her face toward him so that they were now looking at each other. It was a sweet and tender act, and although she felt her pain, she also felt his love.

"Please talk to me, love," he pleaded gently.

With his face mere inches from hers, she could not look away. Did not want to look away.

He soothed her with his very presence. His breath washed over her with his every exhalation. The sound of his breathing calmed her, and the warmth of his breath was a balm, soothing her to her very core.

"I'm just being silly, I'm sorry," she protested, suddenly feeling very foolish.

He searched her eyes for the truth and found it easily. "You are never _silly_, Hermione. You are the most grounded person I know. You are my best friend, and I know you better than that. You have every right to be upset at losing so many friends and then with having to send your parents away."

Her tears fell freely as he easily verbalized the pain of her heart.

"Besides the obvious good news that Voldemort is gone for good, we still have each other. You, me, Ron, and you can now have your parents back, too."

Nodding her head, she realized the wonderful truths of his statement. Despite their great losses, the world is better for the fight, the losses were not in vain. And yes, they still had each other.

He was filled with so much joy. His green eyes shone, their brilliance declaring his happiness. They were so very beautiful framed by delicate black lashes. She'd seen them a million times and never tired of them.

"Harry, your eyes are so beautiful," she stated simply, feeling his breath on her face.

"As are yours," he responded.

Unable to believe him, she turned away, out from his gentle grasp and away from his soothing breath.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked, obviously confused by her reaction.

"You… you don't mean that, Harry. You're just being nice and I…"

"I was most certainly _not_ just being nice. I meant it."

With furrowed brow, he pierced her with his gaze. He was not happy. Anger colored his face as he grabbed her retreating form and pulled her back to him, nestled against each other. However, this time, Harry held on tightly to Hermione, ensuring she would not escape.

"Hermione, please look at me," he pleaded and continued when she complied. "I think you are perfection. You are not only brilliant and resourceful, but you are a loyal friend. And I'm not shy about saying you are all that wrapped up in a very beautiful package."

Held as she was, she could not push away from him, but she did avert her gaze. Whether from embarrassment at the vehemence of his assertion or from fear that he could lie to her so convincingly, she was not certain.

"Hermione, please look at me," he pleaded again. When she returned her gaze she realized she had been crying as he wiped her tears away.

"Hasn't Ron ever told you how beautiful you are?"

The tremors returned to her body as she found herself searching for the answer to that question. It was clear that Ron was attracted to her, but she was not certain as to why. They were polar opposites. When she realized she knew the answer to his question, her tears were accompanied by soft whimpers.

No, Ron had never told her she was beautiful.

As her tears fell down her cheeks, they were wiped away gently, soothingly… then passionately as soft, warm kisses caressed her face as if slowly mapping their contours.

Harry was strong and commanding yet gentle and passionate, very unlike the demanding kiss they shared earlier. His soft kisses brought a new heat to her body, a passion she had not felt with Ron. Her brain attempted to reason the situation away. Harry's protective nature and his desire to keep his friend happy…

No, it wasn't that simple. However, his kisses were soothing and had not crossed the line between friends.

Embarrassed by her presumptions, she realized that he had not kissed her in the manner in which she had thought or maybe hoped. His proximity, his compassion, his caress and his kisses all brought upon a yearning for which she was now humiliated. This was her friend and he had done nothing to indicate he wanted more from her.

She wasn't beautiful, she realized that now.

"Your eyes are pure warmth, Hermione," he offered, not knowing of her tumultuous feelings. "When you look at me, I feel as if you are looking into my very soul. Never judging or condemning, just… allowing me to be me," he stated honestly, in a manner in which only he could. Whatever the reality of life was, this was Harry's truth. He believed what he was saying.

"And when I see you with Ron…" he began, as if fighting with himself to continue, "I feel jealous, a pain that hurts me because I love you both so very much. But I want you in the manner in which he has you," he said, his voice thick with emotion, and then it was his turn to avert his gaze from her. "You are so very beautiful to me, Hermione."

Turning back to her, staring at her soberly and resolutely he continued, "I'm going to kiss you now, so if you don't want me to, stop me now because I won't be able to stop myself."

All she could concentrate on were his tender lips coming towards her and enveloping her own in their warm caress. Hearing his warning, she found herself somewhere between shock and yearning, and she knew she would not stop him. She did not want to stop him. As if her lips suddenly became involuntary muscles, she found herself responding, kissing him back with equal ardor.

Slowly and tenderly, he kissed her as if fearing her reaction to him, and when she opened herself to him, he appeared to be emboldened. His embrace became possessive and demanding as he held her by the back of her head and kissed her ardently.

Their tongues met, like smooth velvet, they explored themselves, each taking and giving pleasure. He pressed himself against her and she responded, unwittingly, undulating her body in ecstasy. Harry wanted her; desired her. Feeling his erection press up against her, his body reacted to her.

No one had ever made Hermione feel so desirable… so beautiful before.

Harry pressed her down against the sofa as he continued to kiss her. His hands explored her body, and she welcomed his caress. Accepting him, she spread her legs. Slowly, passionately, he continued to kiss her, moving his tongue against hers as he ground himself against her core. Although fully clothed, Hermione had never felt so sensual.

Their passion slowed as reason seemed to win over libido. Harry pressed his forehead against hers and fought for breath, as he worked to control himself.

"You didn't stop me," he stated, although it sounded more like a question.

"No, I didn't," she responded simply.

They were both spoken for by a Weasley. And although the situation had potential to be quite uncomfortable, Hermione felt at ease in the arms of her best friend.

"What do we do now?" she asked, smiling.

"I take a shower as I stink of Riddle and then we go to sleep."

"Don't you think we should talk first?"

"About what?"

"Um, us… our kiss!" she explained, exasperated.

"Yes, of course, but how about tomorrow?" he asked. Not waiting for her answer, he added, "However, I don't want you to worry. We are okay," he declared as he pointed between the two of them. "It will all be alright. Now, let's get cleaned up and go to sleep."

"But I'm still hungry, Harry."

"Your choices are more cocoa with cognac… or me," he said as he snaked his tongue out lasciviously. "Which will it be?"

"I agree. Bath then bed. Let's go."

~*~

**A/N: Thank you for reading! If you want this story to continue, please let me know! Right now, it's a one-shot but I do have ideas for a continuation. So, please let me know. In the meantime, please check out my other stories. A new one is Gifts of the Universe (Hermione/Remus).**

**THANKS! ~Ruthie**


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